


who the fuck is blink-182

by asexuelf



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Cult, Canon Gay Character(s), Crushes, M/M, Neopronouns, Pining, Travis Lives In Addison Apartments, my resident butch oc akdjskdjs, still ghosts tho, the return of dykey dawn, this fic doesnt need many tags you get what you pay for, travis is a choir kid just look at him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22178473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexuelf/pseuds/asexuelf
Summary: Travis has a huge crush on the too-nice artsy guy that hangs around the science lab. He's actually pretty hopeless about it.
Relationships: Sal Fisher/Travis Phelps
Comments: 14
Kudos: 59





	who the fuck is blink-182

**Author's Note:**

> title is a nod to 'highschool never ends', a song by blink-182 akdhskf ive already used that as a title before and i have no idea if modern highschoolers ever listened to blink-182 so [insert joke title]... at the very least, travis probably doesnt know them.
> 
> i was unhappy with this so i rewrote it and now i feel like my writing mojo is back stronger than ever 💪 so i hope you enjoy!! 💖
> 
> 1/10/2020 EDIT: AKDNAKDJS THE SONG IS NOT BY BLINK-182. I ONLY EVER LISTENED TO MCR OK?

Okay. One last time.

He breathes in for ten, for twelve, until his chest aches, and then breathes it all out at once like a popped balloon. It does nothing to steady him, even less to make him sneakier or better hidden, but he takes his chance anyways.

One last time, he peeks around the lockers.

Oh, God. There he is. Travis' breath quickens, sweat pinprickling at his neck. There's Sal, sitting on the floor next to the locked door of the science lab, his guitar in his lap and his brother beside him.

They're roughhousing in that careful way he's seen them do, laughing together even when Sal's dangly earring gets caught on his guitar strap. It's unsurprising there'd be a wardrobe malfunction, given how dressed up Sal is today, all beautiful and distracting and  _ ugh _ .

How is Travis supposed to do  _ anything _ when Sally Face is wearing those stupid ripped jeans that show his legs nearly in entirety? How is Travis supposed to  _ cope  _ when he's in that dark blouse he's had since sophomore year - the one that shows his back and shoulder blades and has always driven Travis absolutely nuts? How is Travis supposed to  _ live _ when his hair is pulled up in that artfully messy bun, dyed-blue strands spilling out over the pretty curve of his neck?

"Oh, God," Travis says. Blessedly, it escaped him at only a whisper.

This is far from his first glimpse of Sal Fisher - not even the first in the last two minutes - but Travis finds his reaction is always the same. It's like being possessed when that boy is around. He's just so-

"'Oh God', what?"

Travis jumps out of his skin, only barely able to avoid shouting by biting the inside of his cheek. "Good Lord, Dawn," he hisses at hir. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"You want the list my parents made or the one my therapist gave me?"

"Neither. I have my own."

"Why bother asking, then?" Clumping forward in hir heavy boots, ze leans hir entire weight against Travis' shoulder, their version of a hug. "Seriously, what's up?"

Travis huffs. Dawn is a meddler - he does  _ not _ want to be caught staring at his crush (again). "Nothing. Don't you have something to do?"

"Uhh… Duh. We have choir together? Like, right now."

Choir is at 3:45 and he's been standing here since the dismissal bell rang. Damn. Has he been staring at Sal  _ that _ long?

"Mr. G had me come looking for you. You weren't even answering my texts."

Shit. Ze must have been worried sick, even if it was just a few minutes. The last time he went M.I.A. like that, it was because Kenneth decided to beat the ever-living shit out of him. After so many years of that abuse, Travis was good at getting up and moving forward, but that time had done a serious number on him.

The number was so serious, in fact, that he was finally able to leave his father's horrible nightmare of a home. Now he lives with a weird old woman named Rose, who Dawn absolutely adores; knowing that Rose is safe, however, isn't the same as feeling it.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to worry you." Then, he lies through his teeth, because he's an asshole, "Rose was calling, so I didn't see the messages."

"God, you're so bad at bullshitting." Dawn's stare is decidedly unimpressed. Hir face is almost completely blank. "I want to kick your ass sometimes, Phelps."

"Ugh. Don't call me that. You know I'm trying to change it."

"And what to?  _ Fisher? _ "

Immediately, Travis' face goes hot as a skillet. From neck to scalp, it's like he's been doused in burning oil. "I- What? Don't be crazy!"

"Holy shit, that's totally what you were doing." Dawn snorts behind hir hand. "You're over here staring at Sal Fisher. You are  _ so _ stupid."

"Shut up! You suck!"

"Yeah, your mom's cooch. Why don't you just talk to the guy already? You've been mooning for like, eighty years."

"It's not been eighty years. Bitch."

"You talk like a drunk old man."

"You look like a drunk old man."

"Is everything okay over here?"

Travis thinks his ass might turn inside out.

"Hey, Sal," says Dawn, because ze's a demon.

Dawn smiles at their new guest, all teeth and all charm, running a hand over hir fresh buzz as if in mourning at the very sight of Sal's beautiful hair. Travis knows it puts him in mourning. When he sees Sal, he goes through the seven stages of grief and a few extra ones after that.

Sal smiles back, only made evident by the familiar tilt of his head. His new prosthetic hides his eyes behind Spider-man-like lenses, both a blessing and a curse. Travis wants so badly to see those gorgeous eyes, but he thinks if he did, his days may be cut short. He's already too gay to function as it is.

"It sounded like you guys were fighting," Sal continues. "You guys are buds! You shouldn't fight."

Travis' blush only grows worse. Oh, God. He's so precious. He's so stupidly nice and cute.

"Yeah, we're okay. That's just kind of how we talk, because we're both assholes."

When Sal laughs, Travis almost keels over. Only Dawn's arm around his shoulder keeps him upright through the direct onslaught of Sal Fisher's unmuffled laughter. Curse whoever put those holes over the mouth of his prosthetic! Curse them!

"Okay, I'm glad to hear it," Sal says, as if Travis isn't dying at a tragically young age right in front of him. "Usually your ribbing is a little more playful-looking is all. Sorry for killing the vibe."

"No problem." The grin on Dawn's face is so shit-eating that Travis almost thinks ze set this all up. "No vibes wasted here, bro."

"Good to hear it, bro. If that's all, then I'll catch you later." And then Sal is backing away, guitar still held carefully to his chest as he waves. "I've gotta head back to the lab before Todd shows up so I can spook him."

"Wait!"

Sal stops, hand still hanging awkwardly in the air. The multicolored flowers painted on his prosthetic face are just that - paint - but Travis feels like they're staring at him in judgement.

"I, uh-" Travis swallows. His tongue is numb. "You take your guitar in there, like, all the time, but I can't imagine a science lab having great acoustics. What do you need it for?"

The way Sal perks up is so gratifying, it makes Travis' chest seize.

"It's for ghost hunting," Sal says, as if that makes perfect sense. "Todd is a super great inventor, so he turned my Switch and my guitar into ghost hunting tools. The Switch reads EMF and the guitar dispels spiritual energy."

Travis has no idea what the fuck he is talking about. "Wow, that's really cool."

"It really is. I can even still play games on the Switch!" He puffs out his chest, like he can't contain his pure joy at Todd not ruining his expensive gaming system. "Playing Luigi's Mansion is way funnier now."

"Um-" Travis doesn't know what Luigi's Mansion is, but if Sal says it's funny, he'll believe it. "But, where do you hunt ghosts? I can't imagine any place in Nockfell being interesting enough to be haunted."

Sal huffs a laugh. "You'd be surprised… We mostly talk to the ghosts in our apartment building. We try to make sure the spirits of Addison Apartments have the choice to move on."

"Wait, Addison Apartments?" Dawn turns and blinks at Travis. "You live there!"

Sal grabs the neck of his guitar with both hands. "Wow, really? I thought I knew all the tenants."

"Uh, yeah…" He laughs nervously, avoiding the look Dawn is surely giving him. "I moved in with someone last year after- some stuff happened. Do you know Rosenberg?"

"You live with Rose? Is it true she's a witch? I visit her every Sunday but she never tells me a straight answer."

Travis can't help but laugh. "Yeah, she does all the herbs and crystals and stuff… She's cool, mostly." He tucks some of his hair behind his ear, blushing when it falls back into place. "That explains why you haven't seen me there, though. I go to church on Sundays. I'm there pretty much all day"

"I'll have to start coming by on Saturday, then. If that would be cool, I mean."

"I- Uh," Travis swallows. Oh, Jesus. "I-"

"Friday would be better. He does his homework on Saturday, because he's a nerd," Dawn says. He takes back every bad thing he's ever said about hir. Ze's a fucking saint. "But Friday evenings are always free. Not even I bully Travis on Fridays."

Sal smiles again, so cat-like and adorable Travis could scream. If he opens his mouth he might actually scream. "I'll see you Friday then. You can even meet some of the ghosts!"

Travis blinks owlishly.

"Sounds awesome," Dawn grabs his hand to wave goodbye at Sal. Ze hates it, but he's going to go home and pray to God that ze receives every blessing ze's ever wanted. "We have choir to get to, though. Catch you later, Sal!"

"Bye, Dawn!" He turns to Travis then, his voice going smooth and low as he says, "See you soon, Travis."

God. Oh, God. Hearing Sal say his name is almost too much to bear. As ze drags him along, poor Dawn hisses at him to pull himself together, but he just can't. He's seconds away from turning into a puddle.

"I'm going to hang out with Sal," he says, more to the empty hallway than to his friend. "He knows my  _ name _ ."

The gum-stricken lockers and flickering fluorescents don't talk back, but Dawn does. "Of course he knows you, idiot. I'm friends with Todd's boyfriend and my girlfriend is friends with Ash. When we're hanging out in a group, I talk about you like the whole time."

"Really?"

"Duh."

"Oh, Dawn… If you weren't a lesbian, I'd marry you."

Dawn slams open the door to the band hall. "If I weren't a lesbian, I still wouldn't marry you."

"Your words hurt, Dawn." He pushes her from behind, laughing as ze struggles under the weight of hir backpack. That's what ze gets for wearing it the 'cool' way instead of the right way.

Mr. G shoots them a look, but he quickly turns back to the other choir student he's instructing, so Dawn retaliates with a hard pinch.

"Ow! You should be nice to me, you know. We're  _ buds _ ."

"Ugh. Sal's so sweet. I can't believe he's your type. You're just..." Ze waves hir hand meaningfully in the air, as if reaching for the answer.

"A gallon of dick-flavored toxic sludge?" he guesses.

"...Colorful. Have you been writing poetry again?"

"Maybe."

Choir practice goes about as well as it usually does - only about half the kids pay attention and who those kids are depends entirely on the moment and whether they just want to be angry at the other half. Travis, however, finds himself distracted the entire time, lost in thoughts of pretty blue hair and dangly earrings.

Unbeknownst to Travis, there's a special someone in the science lab having similar thoughts about him.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!! 💖


End file.
